Leaf a Message
by Hazelnut
Summary: What's better for delivering messages than the whispers of leaves? Be prepared to be swept off your feet by the crisp voice of flowers as they reveal a tale that has never before been told this way... Ryosaku


The flowers were all whispering that night. Even with their soft buds closed tight and their fragile heads bowed low like shy maidens hoping to lure a glimpse from their lovers with their subtle beauty. Their silent words echoed in the cool still air – a few spun upwards in a wild twirl amongst the shimmering heaven, which responded with a faint gentle murmur among the stars. Yet this cascade of speech was slightly muffled by the few gathering wisps as they assembled and extended their thin silver fingers until they touched and intertwined over the rich velvety sky. Then again, the colours faded as drops of light trickled soundlessly into the pool of darkness, and the violet gradually melted away into a vivid shade of tangerine which streaked across the horizon like a fantasia of peach sherbet – this was perfectly accompanied by a fizzing crescendo of anticipation humming beneath the serene twilight as dawn broke over the city.

First there was a flicker, a tendril of yellow, and then a fugitive lick of untamed gold which dimmed the rainbow shimmers of the diamond stars. A spill of amber sparks closely followed, as they danced across the concrete buildings, the brick roofs, and the asphalt roads, saturating all with their thick syrupy rays.

It wasn't long before this first glimmer of spring washed over a small figure on the shaded veranda of a small gray flat, her slim frame curled up inside a woolen blanket as she sat against the glass doors connecting the fresh morning to her room. As the light struck, however, she straightened into a stand position - though with some degree of difficulty through the deep folds of wool - and moved over to lean on the metal railing. Her gentle chocolaty eyes were alight with wonder as she watched the huge golden globe inch its way over the distant horizon and cast its warmth over the city.

Strange, how a sunrise makes you realize how quickly time passes. Just look at how quickly those golden rays filled every corner of the world, and how quickly the shadows of the night seemed to scamper away at their approach! Funnily enough, it reminded her terribly of a powerful yet arrogant superhero slicing through deathly creatures of the underworld with blinding blades of light, all the while crying out, "Never fear! The warrior of justice is here!".

Arrogance, however, was usually the 'inner conflict' portrayed within the superhero – the key barrier that forms between one and his supporters. She could not have known this any better – for she was currently in the role of the supporter. And she also often wished – like the rest of his fans – for the right to claim him as _her_ hero. Nevertheless, like the rest of his fans – her hope was so virtually impossible it never lasted for long before it was flattened by a shameful epiphany. Yet she has long since lost count of how many times this glimmer of possibility had soared from her turmoil of thoughts in the past three years.

Three years…that is, without a doubt, a very long time.

Sure, they have maintained a somewhat strange yet passable relationship - a combination of family friends, classmates, and apprenticeship. It could almost be considered as a friendship if you had a broad definition of the word. They have been giving each other Christmas and birthday presents every year - though only due to the intimacy of the two households. And at one point even Valentine chocolates - but that was simply a token of friendship which her grandma had urged her to buy. So no doubt the White Valentines present he had given in return was due to the same cause.

And thanks to the frequency of these presents, she could no longer see them as anything other than symbols of affection between friends.

Reaching out, her fingers affectionately stroked the violet-blue petals of a morning glory just within her touch, their heart-shaped leaves brittle with silver frost. Now they were just beginning to demonstrate the origin of their name - unfurling gloriously at the sun's caressing touch.

She broke off a crisp leaf from the vine wound around the railing of her veranda and released it over the three meter drop into the air - which was just beginning to ripple with the buzz and clatter of early risers. As though on cue, the first morning breeze swept the fragile green heart towards the radiant sky, almost as if it wished to perfect the scene by adding another drop of colour to the brilliant mixture of dawn on display.

He has always been reasonably amiable towards her though – again, as required to maintain the connection between the two households. And at times she even dared to think there was something different in the way he treated her – but then he has always been a good liar, a fact he so kindly reminded her of every single time with a toss of shockingly insensitive remarks immediately after a flicker of a smile. Naturally, she has grown to not take anything he said to heart, yet sometimes his gift for mindless lies left her wary of anything to do with him.

Oh yes, she has always known that he was a much better liar than she was.

And, by rustling their leaves, the trumpet-shaped flowers seemed to agree.

* * *

><p>Somewhat expected, the class did not seem to agree. "A <em>game<em>! At a time like this!"

Ryuzaki Sakuno gingerly withdrew her palms which had been clamped over her ears to shield her sensitive ear drums from the deafening bellow of disbelief from her fellow classmates. The syllables bounced off the walls with so much vigour that their after-effect was still resonating in the air seconds afterwards. Gazing around, many shocked and displeased faces came into her view.

"Well, it is somewhat educational," responded the biology teacher in her desperate attempt to explain the purpose of the game - which had not been particularly convincing so far.

_"_But _now_! Two weeks before the final exams?"

"I thought you would be forcing us to study! Not play _games_."

"And what kind of game is it anyway? If it'll last for two weeks?"

It looked like Sakuno was the only one left in the class who hasn't yet yelled anything in objection. Well, her and one other person.

But then Echizen Ryoma never said anything in class unless it contributed towards boosting his ego more than it already was - as impossible as that might sound. So she was not surprised to find him (out of a corner of her eye) with his head comfortably nestling in the crook of his arm on the desk; his mane of tousled hair glowed gloriously even in the nonexistent light. Sound asleep or not, she had not the faintest idea - yet it was quite clear he wasn't paying any attention to class either. As usual. Despite the fact he was also one of the few that had the academic results to make even the teacher wince in astonishment.

"Yes, yes I understand your concern-" The firm but gentle voice of the teacher drew Sakuno's attention back towards the front of the classroom. She has to say she was quite impressed by her perseverance - but why she was so determined for them to play this game was still a mystery.

"-but this game may benefit you more than you realize." With a flick of her hair, the woman smiled and swept her gaze over her students. At this the class settled down a bit, and a sparkle of mischief sprang into her eyes like a kindling of fire. Sakuno grinned - this teacher has always appealed to her, for reasons such as her eccentric sense of humour and her "educational" ideas that were, more often than not, up to no good but always benefiting the class in more ways than one.

"Okay, the rules go like this," started the woman-in-charge in the stately way she had cultivated for situations like these. "Since we've just finished a unit about plant identification and classification - which I may be right to assume is the unit that most of you have difficulties with - I thought it would be a good idea to deepen your impression of each plant a little bit - to make them memorable for you all. So from now until the end of next week you must not express any emotions through speech-" Here she raised a hand to silence the uproar of confusion and complaints, "-and instead give the person you want to express this emotion to... a leaf."

Here again she paused, as if for waiting for the words to sink in. Yet when they did - and a few people snorted - she continued on.

"Yes, a leaf... But obviously not just any random leaf. Have you all heard about the flower language?" She looked around the class, and her eyes widened when she saw only the girls nodded - all the boys looked sadly blank.

"What do parents teach boys these days! My goodness, maybe that's something I should mention in the next round of parent interviews..."

Sakuno smiled a little as the woman pretended to jolt down a note in an imaginary notebook.

"All flowers have a meaning. The Victorians used to use flowers as a symbol to express their feelings - and this was what they called the flower language. For example, red roses represent love - that's a common one - and a hyssop wards away evil spirits. There are many others, of course, which I have put on the handouts I am about to give you. Therefore the objective of the game is to give each other _leaves _of the flowers that represent your emotions, and by doing this both the giver and recipient will learn how to identify the leaves of the plants in order to encode the message. Is it as clear as mud? Any questions? Oh if you can't identify the leaves by using the chart on the handout then you can always come to me of course - right, I've waited long enough-" She happily ignored the few waving hands in the class, "Pass these on, please."

Silently the papers floated around the room, from one confused person to another. Yet soon the comprehension and excitement started to set in. It was but a few seconds before a soft murmur began circulating the room, well, at least the parts of the rooms occupied by girls. It was not hard to see that the majority of the boys were still either perplexed over the rules - still trying to get their heads around the "flower language" thing - or were already bored of the idea.

Sakuno, however, was one of the intrigued participants.

_"_All right then, are we ready to do this?" The teacher clapped her hands together enthusiastically once she had collected the spare papers, and the shiny silver bracelets on her wrists met with a metallic jingle. With a wave of her hand that could have been made by a general sending his troops to war, the woman dismissed the class and unlocked the gateway to two weeks of nightmare.

"Let the game begin."

* * *

><p>For the first few days everyone was reluctant to play. Nobody was willing to be the fool known as the first one to believe in the ridiculous game. But gradually everyone warmed up to the idea and began enjoying studying the language of flowers and going out to collect leaves or ask for them at the florists. Ryoma was, unfortunately, not so impressed by the idea though - for he was one of the selected few who were destined to become a grand collector of leaves.<p>

It was early in the morning, third day after the game officially started, and the class was just filing into their classroom for another tedious lesson of English. Sakuno was, as usual, watching Ryoma out of a corner of her eye as she followed everyone else into the room and settled into her desk not too far from his. His lazy feline eyes were glazed with sleep deficiency and his steps were heavy as he made his way towards his desk - no doubt his father had tormented him in another five rounds of tennis that morning. Not long after she took out her textbook, however, she heard a sharp scrape of wood against porcelain and spun around just in time to see Ryoma jump back in alarm - his chair crashing down to the ground noisily.

He had obviously just pulled out his textbook from the drawer under his desk - its limp cover was lying quite lifelessly on the floor beside his chair, half-concealed by a small pile of leaves of different colours and shapes and sizes. As the whole class watched in fascination, a few more dark green shapes drifted down from inside his drawer to add to the heap.

There was a moment of shocked silence. Then everyone burst out laughing.

"Echizen! I didn't know you were so popular!"

"Let me see what those leaves mean!"

"Well, they'll represent either love or hate I suppose... knowing you!"

And they were right. They were mostly just different symbols of love and admiration, of course - the small spotted leaves of a pansy meaning thoughts of a beloved, the jagged leaves of red roses obviously recognized as the universal representation of love, even big flat leaves of variegated tulips suggesting "beautiful eyes" - Sakuno had to smile at that one as she helped him gather up his collection on the floor. But there were also ones that were not so pleasant... the larger fan-like leaves of monkshood, for example, which meant "beware", and the rocket leaves associated with "rivalry".

Of course, she was not the only one helping him - almost all the girls in the class have tossed aside their usual sayings of keeping their skirts pretty and clean and were on their knees snatching at the fragile objects as if it was a competition of who could pick up the most leaves and help Ryoma the most, or - even though Sakuno hated to believe it - a competition of who could secretly rip up or hide the leaves of their rivals. At one point the back of Sakuno's hand was even scratched by another girl's long devilish nails as the girl reached over to grab the leaf from within her grasp. Sakuno looked up, a little cross, yet didn't bother saying anything. She would have to get used to this sooner or later.

With so many eager hands helping, it was not long before Ryoma was presented with a neat pile of leaves on his desk (Sakuno couldn't help but notice it was a lot smaller than before). And each and every girl, as they carefully arranged their own portion on top of the others, flicked a flirty glance at him before they returned to their seats for class. This for some reason made Sakuno itch with irritation, even though Ryoma himself didn't seem to take the slightest notice of these suggestive looks.

Although she didn't intend to be the last one in the queue, she ended up being the last one anyway. While she waited she stole a few nervous glances at the entrance of the classroom, luckily the teacher has not yet arrived. It was at times like these that she reprimanded herself for bothering to help him - nevertheless, she often found herself doing exactly that, though often in vain.

Gently, she placed the few leaves she had gathered onto the small hill. And it was then that she noticed the complete bewilderment and confusion on Ryoma's face.

No one could tell, of course, for anyone else would have taken his stony expression as the usual Echizen Ryoma. Yet being able to tell the slight variations of his facial features was one thing Sakuno was good at (resulting from endless hours of staring at him during tennis matches, she suppose), and was secretly proud of.

"...Ryoma-kun?" She whispered quietly.

At the sound of her voice, his cloudy amber eyes flickered towards her face and registered her identity.

"Oh... it's you," He greeted her with a tad less enthusiasm than she had hoped.

"...umm, sorry but I just wanted to make sure... you do know what these leaves are for, don't you? You do know about the game? Not that I think you're…you're _stupid_ or anything…" Trailing off into an incomprehensible whisper, she blushed as his left eyebrow quirked.

"What are you talking about?"

Sakuno stared at him. "You know, the game we are playing in biology? The one with the leaves and flower language?"

"And your point is?" He asked, his bored tone telling her he was already losing interest.

She almost banged both her fists on his desk (now _that_ would make him interested) but thought otherwise, she knew better than to do something on impulse and having to regret it later on. Instead, her lips curved into a dangerously sweet smile.

"My _point_ is..." Somehow the frustrating role of explaining always fell to her. And as she briefly outlined the game in a low voice, she did not even have to glance up to sense the reproaching glares from other females in the room (well, it's not as if _they _had even thought to do this job, she thought, and could not resist tilting her face up just a little more than necessary). Yet - even after all that trouble - she still didn't quite receive the response that she had hoped for.

A cool flash of amber, and a bored "oh, I see." was his payment for her concern.

Well, not likely she was going to get anymore out of him by the looks of it.

So with a dull sense of bitterness in her chest, she turned away from him, still muttering "unbelievable" under her breath while she made her way to her seat. Although only a couple of steps had been taken before the familiar cold voice stopped her.

"Ryuzaki."

Sakuno spun around; a sudden surge of hope flooded her thoughts.

The boy gestured to a thick object on his desk. "Your dictionary, I don't need it anymore."

He had borrowed it from her yesterday for some kind of English speech he was doing for the school - and he had forgotten his because he thought he "wouldn't be needing it", but there had been "just a few words that even the teacher didn't know"... Sakuno handed him the dictionary before he had even finished explaining.

Naturally, she was a tiny bit gleeful to be the first choice of the star of the school – even if it might have just been for her dictionary.

But this still did not change the fact that he had not bothered to thank her.

And now she regretted even lending it to him in the first place.

Hastily, she snatched the dictionary from his desk with a force she never knew she possessed, and stalked back to her seat; taking large strides so as to get away from him as quickly as possible. Somehow she reframed herself from slamming the dictionary down on to her desk, but she did stuff it back into the depths of her bag with a great deal of noise. She had made up her mind to show him that she would not need it this period - or whenever he was around with his infamous cockiness.

She didn't exactly know what had made her so angry. It wasn't the first time she had been a victim of Ryoma's smart comments, and certainly not the first time she had felt stupid or embarrassed in his presence. Perhaps it was his ungrateful attitude towards her, or him not taking the game seriously when all the girls were so hopeful to get something from him, or even simply because she was not yet used to the idea of so many other girls acting as her competition.

Oh, she was well aware of his fan club, of course. And she dared not hope, even for a second, that he would have a special way of talking with her, or an unexplained preference of interacting with her, when he had so many other girls to choose from.

Yet that didn't quite explain why she was now crouching ankle-deep in snow searching for a leaf bearing the meaning of "secret love".

The acacia tree had shed its skin of leaves a while ago, its oddly bare twigs and branches now rattled against one another like sticks in a drummer's hands. But she knew there might still be a chance of finding a few on the ground close to the trunk - buried under layers of crunchy ice and frozen earth.

The icy gusts chilled Sakuno right to the bone, and worse, she could feel her calf muscles numbing from being in the same position for the past hour. Her fingers were not that better off either - red and incredibly stiff from continuous digging in the ice crystals, she had long lost the sensation of the watery slushiness she was prying through.

For the millionth time she breathed on her swollen fingers in a feeble attempt to warm them up, and again she failed. The clouds of white smoke swirled around her hands, yet the little heat they gave could not penetrate the heavy lead-like layer of her skin. She tried bending her fingers - yet they would move no further than half-way - forming a mutant claw rather than a fist.

If she gave up now, though, all her effort would truly be wasted - and it was an immense amount of effort, judging from the numerous holes in the glistening whiteness and uneven heaps of shredded ice which surrounded her shivering body. She bit her lip, and drove her ungloved hands into the deadly cold again. As she tried parting the last pile of snow with an awkward sideways motion of her wrist - for sadly her hands had finally betrayed her - her dark pupils narrowed and focused on a green triangle peeking out from under her lifeless hands. With a little difficulty she scooped the object out and shook off shards of ice, then drew in a sharp intake of air as she recognized its oval shape.

Found, at last.

* * *

><p>Despite the fact that she had found the leaf though, Sakuno swayed between the two choices - to give or not to give. For example this morning - when she spotted him opening his shoe locker merely five feet away from her, she was almost able to pull out the leaf from her pocket and hand it to him...if the flood of greenery hadn't tumbled out first from within the metal door of the locker.<p>

If the timing hadn't been so irritating she would have taken the time to admire the truly amusing sight. The small mountain of salvia leaves bearing the meaning of "I think of you", countless primrose leaves implying "I can't live without you", a couple of lilac leaves which leapt out with the message of "first love", and even a camellia leaf which landed gracefully on top of the pile - "you're a flame in my heart". Sakuno had to smother a laugh, even though the situation really shouldn't have been funny to her. Sometimes she wondered if the game was designed just for the prince, for if you study the language of flowers the fact that they were mostly used to show affection would soon become apparent, and affection was what Ryoma got, in alarming amounts.

There were many more species of leaves, of course, yet Sakuno had no interest to examine them. And she didn't get a chance to either, since Ryoma swept them all up into a large plastic bag which he had produced out of his school bag - well, obviously he was prepared. But this did not stop him from letting out a small groan and trudging off to the classroom while grumbling incomprehensively under his breath.

So there went the chance of her giving the leaf. Sakuno sighed and withdrew her hand from her uniform pocket. Glancing down at her bandaged fingers, she wondered again why she had even bothered looking for a leaf to give to him at all, when he clearly did not miss them. And why she didn't just get the leaf of an ordinary flower like roses or carnations - which could just be taken from any florist in town - instead of stubbornly insisting on finding something different to what girls would normally give him.

She was, perhaps, arrogant in a way - to think that by just presenting him with a leaf no one else has given him he would notice her more. Although it was indeed very ridiculous to say she had such a high opinion of herself. Quite the contrary, really. Because she thought so _little_ of herself, she could not afford to be overlooked again by giving him something plain and ordinary.

She has already been overlooked enough – being merely a face in the crowd of supporters for the hero.

It was a few days afterwards, however, when she had the opportunity to talk to him again.

The sun was exceptionally bright that day - and so warm that she was growing sure of her belief in spring being just around the corner. The droplets of golden rays showered upon her like honey-coloured dandelions, and even the ghastly northerlies have weakened and gained a softer touch as they gently slid past her face without slicing long painful marks on her skin.

The cobblestones of the pedestrian path was slick with melted snow and mud - yet they echoed the strikes of her heels with light merry clicks as she made her way along the walkway. It was also the first time in months that she has heard melodious birdsong - birds of all types were drawn to the tiny specks of new shoot stretching out from the twigs, and settled on the springy branches as they commenced to sing endless arias to urge along their growth into lush sprouts of greenery.

Surely, it was too beautiful a day to let it go to waste.

So with half an hour of practice in mind, Sakuno arrived at the Seigaku tennis courts - which were, to her relief, relatively empty since it was not yet the tennis season.

It was difficult to warm up at first - since it was still a little chilly despite the weather being warmer than previous days. Yet in just a few minutes she was enthusiastically hitting the fluorescent green ball back and forth against the cement wall, rarely missing a beat as her eyes closely followed the motion of her goal. She was just beginning to regain the confidence lost during the winter break when a loud cherry female voice sounded behind her.

"Ah! Ryuzaki! I haven't seen you for a while! Practicing even in this weather?"

She turned around, and gave a start as one of the third-years from her tennis club came into view.

"T-Tone senpai! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there..." She lowered her racquet and smiled a little, although she was greatly surprised - for she was never particularly close to this senior player, let alone known her well enough for her to come up to her like this. Therefore she added slightly hesitantly, "...um, is anything wrong?"

Tone-senpai paused, then chuckled and shook her head. "No! Of course not! I was just coming to tell you how impressed I was to see someone in the club so determined to practice... it somehow makes me itch to play, too!"

Sakuno's worried frown relaxed into a warm smile at her words and shook her hands modestly. "N-No, I just wanted to find somewhere where my grandmother wouldn't see, since I'm still too bad at tennis to be associated with her..."

Tone-senpai smiled - yet it was an unreadable smile. Then as though an idea just occurred to her, the older girl said brightly, "Hey, do you think you can lend me your racquet and ball for just a few minutes? After seeing you play, I kind of want to refresh my own skills too..."

"Oh, of course! Not a problem!" Sakuno handed over her racquet willingly and stepped back as the other girl took her place with a grateful nod. "I'll be just a few minutes."

But it was half an hour later when Sakuno began to suspect something was wrong.

Every time she tried to - politely - retrieve her racquet, the girl would brush her aside with "just a few more minutes", and she, of course, had no reason to refuse. So each time she had to return to watching the girl use her racquet and ball in her scheduled practice time. No doubt the girl was aware of Sakuno's wish to take back the racquet, yet she showed no signs of returning it to her, and even grew impatient at Sakuno's latest attempt to hint that they should be getting to class.

"I _told_ you it would just be a few more minutes! Trust what your senior says!" She barked back at her.

Sakuno's hand - already reaching out to take the ball - trembled and snapped back to her side. Then her eyes grew wide with panic as the class bell rang - its hollow tone echoing in the deserted school grounds. The situation was getting out of hand, but it would be ridiculous to get a teacher for something like this…

"...You'd better give that back now."

An icy voice behind them pierced the still air like a razor-sharp arrow.

"I thought at your age you would at least be able to tell the time." Sakuno could clearly pick up the hint of a smirk from the placid tone. "...Although it seems like I'm mistaken... for once."

Tone-senpai froze in mid-swing and glanced behind her back. Sakuno could tell she was just about to let loose an accusation for interrupting her practice - she got as far as opening her mouth, but no sound came out.

His golden eyes were solemn, yet just beneath its calm disguise a frosty fire illuminated its deadly danger. Impossible to guess what such an expression portended, except calamity. The hero has come to save the day after all… yet it seemed he was not obtaining any satisfaction from doing so.

It was obvious she recognized who he was. Or, possibly, _more_ than recognized who he was.

There was a moment of deafening silence.

"E-Echizen... y-you should be in class at this time-"

"Oh, so you _do_ know how to tell the time," He interrupted with a sardonistic note.

To Sakuno's surprise, the senior girl blushed and bit her lip - she could have sworn there was a trace of moisture glistening beneath the long curly eyelashes. Well, who would have thought! Ryoma's charms could even seduce older girls to bow in his princely presence. The truth was, Sakuno didn't even know how to react to this fact, for neither proud nor annoyed seemed the appropriate emotion to take up. In the end, she settled for astonishment and simply stood there, gaping dumb-founded at the two figures who conversed through a mean of wordless communication.

She didn't know what had happened, yet it seemed as though Ryoma got the upper hand and defeated the girl without even exchanging a single syllable, for all of a sudden the silence was broken by a loud sniffle and the incident ended with the girl bursting into uncontrollable sobs, dropping the racquet back at Sakuno's feet and streaking back to the main school building in a series of choked whimpers.

They were both quiet for a while, then Sakuno awkwardly picked up the racquet and slid it back into her bag. She made sure to zip it up securely – naturally, she would have to reconsider carefully next time before she was about to lend another person her tennis equipments.

All the while, however, she was avoiding to look him in the eye. He was there – she knew, for she could sense his sharp eyes on her. But she also knew if she was to look in his direction his face would flare up in an impossible shade of maroon. It was impossible to avoid it forever, of course, so at last she braced herself and lifted her face.

When she did look at him, though, she was overcome with a wave of annoyance at seeing Ryoma not showing even the tiniest trace of tension. In fact, he was leaning quite comfortably against the metal netting with a can of Ponta in the hand not cushioning his head. She did, as expected, colour slightly when she realized he was also looking at her, though his look was not one of concern, but rather one of reproach with a flicker of coldness in his sharp honey-coloured eyes. Nervously, and trying to ignore the pang of guilt in her chest, she smiled and stood up.

"Uh... thank you, Ryoma-kun!" She said as brightly as she could manage and inclined her head in gratitude. There was a pause, and she was almost afraid he would turn a blind eye on her and walk away; therefore she was a little relieved to even hear him sigh.

"...Are you ever going to learn?" He bent down to pick up a furry tennis ball. "You can't always be trusting, you know."

"...I know," She said in a low voice, but slowly lifted her face so her eyes glimmered from the glare of snow. "But that's just who I am. I... I can't lie to myself, let alone to other people."

There has always been a fair bit of satisfaction whenever she said something that startled Ryoma, even if it was just a tiny fraction of surprise. For there would be that momentary silence when he was lost for words - then he would almost immediately regain his coolness and the corners of his mouth would twist into a faint smirk.

"Well that's obvious enough, you can't even lie even if you tried." He replied and readjusted his cap so that the tussocks of emerald-green hair sprang disobediently from underneath its bill. "I guess that just means someone will always have to lie for you."

It was a while before the words fully registered. "What..."

He shrugged.

But that's about as misleading as it ever gets.

"But besides your selfishness-" His golden eyes turned back, once more, to meet her chocolaty ones. "Your backhand is still too weak, your shoulders are still too wide, and your hair is still too long."

It was a difficult test for her to restrain herself from reacting to the last comment, but she somehow managed to do it - since it _has_ been a while since he had last given her advice. She unzipped her bag and took out her racquet again - determined to correct her posture while the advices were still fresh in her mind. Focusing on the position of her knees and shoulders, her body quickly locked into her usual playing stance. Awkwardly she twisted her head around to glance over her shoulder in Ryoma's direction and asked hesitantly, "…like this?"

But she couldn't see him – or, more correctly, he was nowhere to be seen. She gaped at the empty space where his body had been and was just about to curse the heartless boy for getting her hopes up and then abandoning her when she felt a warmth on her arm - gently directing it away from her body. The shock nearly made her jump out of her skin.

"You idiot… You never know what I'm talking about, do you?" Ryoma muttered impatiently, a touch of irritation in his tone as his hands continued to guide her arm back and forth in a demonstration of a proper swing.

"Oh, uh, umm... sorry." She was too preoccupied to think of a proper comeback as the feather-light touches of Ryoma's fingers made the sensitive skin of her wrist tingle, as the tip of his nails softly scraped across the back of her swollen hands...

And then she remembered her bandages.

With a small wince, Sakuno snatched her hands back from Ryoma and backed away, the world seemed to stop breathing as they stared at each other in momentary silence.

"S-Sorry, I- we- should really be heading back to class..." She said in a low voice as she tried her best to pull the woolen sleeves of her school jumper over the wrinkled white gauze wrapped around her cracked skin.

If Ryoma had noticed anything, he certainly did a splendid job in hiding it. His honey-coloured eyes were placid as he looked at her, then with a nod he turned away - quietly sipping his Ponta which he had retrieved from the ground beside the entrance of the tennis courts.

He was already outside the door when Sakuno remembered to thank him for the assistance he had... _tried_ to offer her.

"Ryoma-kun! Um, thanks… for the advices."

"...Well, here's another one for you," He said over his shoulder, and she felt the silky coldness of his amber eyes wash over her.

"Don't go digging in the snow in the middle of winter."

* * *

><p>She could scarcely remember anything that happened in the week leading up to the last day of the game. For Ryoma, it was obviously an endless cycle of salvia, rose and lilac leaves, with the occasional arbutus and anemone leaves on rare days – shyly expressing the messages of "only love" and "unfading love". By the end of it, however, he seemed to have grown used to this and would jump out of the way as soon as he opened his locker or pulled books out from his desk, then thrust out a plastic bag to collect the waterfall of leaves as they exploded from the small space like a puff of dust.<p>

It was very odd in Sakuno's opinion, this sudden influx of love confessions. For even though Ryoma was, no doubt, very popular among the school, few girls could face his harsh honesty and so there were normally very few open confessions. Sakuno guessed the game - where words of feeling were forbidden to be spoken - must be extremely favourable for those shy ones out there who had always wanted to indirectly express their admiration for the prince.

Near the end of the week, though, Sakuno noticed there was a slight variation in the species of the leaves as more and more of them gradually took on the meaning of "grief", "tears", and "I'll never forget you"... therefore she assumed Ryoma had also taken advantage of this convenient game, where his ruthlessness would not seem as harsh as if he had spoken aloud, and was reasonably quick in making his merciless replies - even though there must be more broken hearts out there than ever before.

As for her - it was much less dramatic, of course. There were the frequent ones expressing gratitude and guilt, goodbye and good luck. On one occasion, though, there was a leaf of sweet william, and her heart gave a giant leap as she read "give me one smile" on the page of meanings. She had turned around, gave a shy smile at the boy who signed the leaf, then hastily turned back again. And that was the closest her leaves ever got to romances. But she would have much preferred to receive normal harmless messages like those than the one she found one morning. It was a long spindle-shaped leaf of a hyacinth - which she soon found out, with a wave of horror, meant "jealousy". She pondered over what other people could possibly be jealous of her for but was unsuccessful in conjuring up a reasonable trigger. Luckily she didn't get enough of those to spoil the excitement her other leaves had brought her.

Furthermore, she had her own leaf to worry about - it was still nestling patiently in her pocket, waiting to reveal the secret it had been entrusted with.

But the last day eventually came, and it was day that would be etched in her memory for a lifetime.

For one thing, right from the morning of the day it became apparent that she should not have counted on even speaking with him on the last day. It was almost frightening to see the quantity of leaves floating around him at any one moment - it could not even be compared to what had seemed maddening from previous days. Sakuno could read their givers' minds as if it was painted on a bill board and shoved in front of her - the girls wanted to make the most of this last day to pose the deadly question so that the rejection (which they surely would be expecting more than a affirmative response) would merely scrape the surface of their hearts instead of stabbing deep into the vicinity of its pulsing chambers. No doubt, it was a nightmare for him too - he was practically _molting_ leaves as they would be "accidentally" slipped into his pockets and down his school bag. Seriously, she would no longer be surprised if leaves began pouring out from his mouth when he spoke. Even the teacher fought to keep a straight face as he saw Ryoma struggling to unzip his pencil case which – upon opening – erupted into an emerald fountain.

Consequently, she was unable to remain within ten feet of him for long - for there were plenty others out there who were more eager to force him to take in their leaves, and cared less about whether he actually wanted to accept them or not.

It wasn't as though she didn't try though - for she did, very hard. The attempt during interval - for example, was her closest try. He was sleeping under a cherry blossom tree, and seemed to enjoy the rare moment of peace so much that Sakuno was guilty for waking him up. Yet she did, with a gentle call of "Ryoma-kun!" as she kneeled down by his side. Then, when he didn't even stir, she poked him lightly and "Ryoma-kun"ed him again - this time more urgently. And at last he woke - his lazy amber eyes slowly inched open, and his handsome face tilted slightly upwards - the sharp angles of his bones caught the late morning sun and his distinct features glowed with a charming radiance. Sakuno didn't even realize she had been holding her breath until she opened her mouth and tried to speak, but was unable to make a sound due to a dull pain in her chest as air tumbled aimlessly around within her.

She deflated, however, as his tired eyes grew dark at the sight of her and a hint of a scowl crossed his face.

"...What do you want?"

"Uh...sorry for waking you up, but I thought if I don't do this now I won't get another chance..." She fumbled in her pocket, but just as her fingertips brushed the leaf there was a rustle in the bush immediately next to them, a blur of shadow, then an excited "nya~ochibi! Here you are!" as Ryoma was pinned back onto the ground by an enthusiastic red-head as he leapt onto his legs.

There was only one person in the whole school who matched this description.

"Ouch! Get _off_ me Kikumaru-senpai!" Ryoma struggled a bit as he tried to push the upperclassman back into the bush. But it seemed like the older boy was already sitting quite comfortably on his out-stretched legs and was purring contently at the both of them. It was only at that moment, though, he noticed Sakuno's presence and his eyes lit up even more and he waved his hands around to show off his tokens of victory.

She was surprised to see the handful of rose leaves clutched within Kikumaru's fingers; she hadn't expected the game to spread to the third-years as well. But her hesitation was almost immediately washed away as the familiar cheery voice shouted out how many leaves he had received, how touched he was by the gifts, and the occasional incoherent feline sounds for added effects.

"...so you see? I_ am _popular after all! Now who exactly is holding up the popularity level of the Seigaku tennis club, eh? Ochibi? Look at all these tokens of friendship... now if you can be half as friendly as me I'm sure you'll do just as well, _ne_?_ne_?" As Kikumaru pressed his junior for a confirmation - totally unaware of Ryoma's raised eyebrows - a phrase he said suddenly seemed odd to Sakuno.

Token of friendship?

"W-Wait, Kikumaru-senpai..." She began hesitantly, and was a little nervous when the bright hazel eyes turned upon her. "Excuse me, but do you know what the leaves are for?"

A blank look was his reply. "What do you mean? Are they for me to eat or something? Wow I didn't know they've invented lollies that look so much like real leaves-"

It was difficult trying to choose between laughing and sighing, so she did both. Then she explained the game to the puzzled senior. Instantly the crease between his eyebrows vanished and he was smiling again - perhaps even happier than before.

"Ooh, I see! So this is a game in your class! Therefore this means I have some _admirers_ in your class, right? Well, that proves I'm loved all the same!" He laughed and leaned forward to flash a bland smile at Sakuno. "Thanks for telling me, Sakuno-chan!"

She smiled back and said, "You're welcome".

Straight after this amusing event, though, the class bell rang as if on cue. And Sakuno giggled as Kikumaru ruffled Ryoma's dark green hair - making the strands messier than they already were - and bounced away with his seemingly endless bursts of enthusiasm.

Obviously by now it was stupid to think about the leaf again.

But just as she herself was standing up and getting ready to go, Ryoma sat up and said in a low voice, "...Since when has Kikumaru-senpai called you that?"

Sakuno stopped in the midst of brushing the fragments of twigs and leaves from her skirt. "What?"

"...No, never mind." The blazing golden eyes looked away.

"...I think it was since junior high," She answered the question which she had been slow to register due to the surprise. "…he said it sounded cuter than Ryuzaki…"

There was a brief moment of silence. Then he said in the usual piercing voice,

"Aren't you a bit old for that now?"

Then he stood up as well, his slim but muscular physique towered over her small frame. She felt tiny and insignificant as he brushed past her and left her frozen, yet flaring with a bitter disappointment, with his cool words still ringing in her ears.

After that, it was understandable that her desire to give him the gift grafted with her feelings had basically turned to custard. For what had been a tiny hope of him accepting it with reasonable amiability had been diminished completely after the various mocking and cold responses she had received from him during the course of this past week.

What's the point, really? If he has already rejected so many girls without so much as a blink, there was no reason why she would be treated any differently. And anyway, they were both still young - not even at the peak of youth - there was plenty of time ahead of them to think over this.

Of course, she tried very hard to wave away the annoying little voice that popped up every so often inside her head reminding her that she had already been given three years to think things through.

So that was how she somehow ended up on the roof of the school building, long after classes have ended. Not to jump off it, of course - even though she had, for a very brief instant, been tempted to do so. But no, she had something more depressing to do. And it seemed like the rooftop of schools was the most popular place for depressing or stressful activities - love confessions, eating with your lover, getting involved in a fight between friends...the list goes on.

Slowly, she unclenched her fist and peered at the limp object lying quietly below her unfurling fingers, its edges showing a trace of yellow as its life gradually drained away. Suddenly she felt an odd wisp of guilt wrapping around her mind, and her thoughts wavered. After all those trouble, all the pain, was she sure this would be the right thing to do? She lifted the other hand to shade her eyes from the sinking sun - it was still bandaged.

Almost soundlessly, a sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes. She sensed a wind coming, yet she left her palm open, the leaf vulnerable to the motion of the air current.

Swiftly it was lifted by the breeze, the skin on her palm tingled as its short stem scraped against the sensitive flesh. She opened her eyes just in time to see the tiny green shape soar into the sapphire blue sky in a series of spirals, and disappear into a faint black dot in the distance.

She had expected the sense of remorse to come, and it did - but much stronger and faster than she had anticipated. She lifted a bandaged hand to her chest and let her gaze drop to the ground.

"It can't be helped..." She murmured softly into the silence, to fill up both the physical emptiness and that which was eroding her heart.

"...What can't be helped?"

Her shoulders tensed as the piercing voice struck her in an eruption of sparks. She was almost afraid to turn around to face the source, for she knew it without even having to look.

But she did anyway, and there he was - as perfect as she had pictured him to be - bathing under the sunset, glowing with glorious scarlet and gold. His unruly hair, usually dark and shimmering lustrously with pearls of perspiration from excercise, now gleamed with traces of copper under the late-afternoon rays. If he had, at that point, surpassed the cleft between human and God and stepped into the reign of divinity it would not have surprised her.

But what drew her attention was the object he was toying with his fingers. There was no mistake about it - with the flat oval shape shriveling into a long spindle, its dark veins made more obvious by the fading colour, and its texture so fragile it could crumble into smithereens if he had applied a fraction more force - it was her leaf which she had supposedly lost a few minutes ago. Her breath caught in her throat, and she watched in muted shock as he shifted his gaze from her to the leaf in his hand.

"If you meant this thing... then you're lucky I caught it in time," He said. Then, upon examining it for a few seconds, he looked back at her with a strange glow in his eyes. "You do want it back, right? This acacia leaf."

It was a few seconds later when she retrieved her voice again - although it sounded a little strangled and out of breath. "I...no, thanks, but I don't want it anymore."

He quirked an eyebrow in question, yet when he didn't receive an explanation he smirked, then turned his amber eyes on her again, his expression somewhat thoughtful.

"Well, then I guess you wouldn't mind if I gave it to someone?" He asked in a low voice.

She gaped at him in astonishment. The surge of pain that had pierced through her heart left her hopelessly speechless. Worse still, Ryoma did not seen particularly happy when he did not receive a response from her. For at once, a cold displeasure crossed his face. And a frosty smile reformed the shape of his lips. "Or would you rather waste it by throwing it off a building?"

She stiffened, then slowly shook her head.

"Well, then... And anyway, it's not as if you can use it anymore... don't tell me you don't know what wilted flowers mean." Yes, even she knew they convey "rejected love"... but only because a number of her female friends in the class had been weeping over a fair number of shrunken leaves in the past couple of weeks.

"...Or is that the meaning you were trying to imply?"

"No! of course not," She denied immediately, then marveled at how she had managed to retrieve her voice. "It's just all dried up because I've taken too long to give it out."

He blinked. "So you decided to never give it at all?" His voice was edged with a hint of irritation. "...what if the person might still be expecting it?"

Sakuno's eyes, which had been avoiding his, now swiftly shifted to his in a jolt of surprise.

"I...no...Of course not-"

"Good." Seeing her flustered expression seemed to have revived his amusement and the dark frown between his brows ceased. "Although it's a bit late to regret giving the leaf to me...unless I'm-"

Hastily, she interrupted with a scoff. "Of course not! That's never meant for you."

He looked at her, and his smirk grew wider. "What I was going to say was, unless I'm supposed to be your messenger and deliver this for you…if you're too scared to do it yourself."

She felt a horrid twist of embarrassment in her stomach, and a string of scorching heat burned all the way from her throat to her forehead. His mocking tone told her she could not have been any worse at lying.

"But yeah, thanks for clarifying that this was never meant for me." His eyes wandered down to the thin fragment on his palm, and Sakuno was, again, taken by surprise as a faint smile graced his features.

"...With the meaning it bore, I wouldn't have accepted it anyway."

The devastation did not last for long. Perhaps she had finally grown accustomed to it. For she had somehow made her way home in her wobbly state of haziness, and had even managed to recall the existence of her fast-approaching exams, and spent a large portion of the evening blindly sorting through her notes and highlighting objectives. Her least-favoured subject, however, was one of Ryoma's best. Yet the last thing she wanted then was to face him - neither physically nor otherwise. Therefore it was with the greatest remorse (for not having studied hard enough during the year), and the heaviest of sighs that she pulled out her English textbook and dictionary close to midnight that night – since unfortunately she had the bad habit of leaving the worse until last.

The first word she encountered on the exercise sheet was, not surprisingly, frighteningly unfamiliar to her. And after the word proved to be both visually and verbally foreign, she resorted to her dictionary. However, as she flipped through its worn pages her eyes caught sight of the small flat object wedged between two pages near the end of the dictionary, a choked cry slipped through her lips, and her bandaged hands trembled on the pearl-white paper.

The six lobes, spread out almost like it was a flower on its own, shimmered with a transparent emerald-green, yet its thin bronze edges revealed tales of its age. Its complex network of veins, visible against the lively colour of the leaf, merged into the long auburn stem which seemed to call out to her - to extend their tiny fibers in a declaration of love...

In muted silence she sat, and stared at the leaf of a red tulip for a very long time. It wasn't him. No, it _can't_ be him. It could not have _possibly_ been… he hadn't even known about the game that day until she had explained it to him. And after their conversation that afternoon... how he had openly admitted liking someone else...

Gently shaking her head, Sakuno refused to let her mind crumble away with the familiar bitterness.

Besides, she was pretty sure he hadn't laid a single finger on her dictionary since then.

But then… no one else had laid a single finger on her dictionary since then.

* * *

><p>"You gave me a leaf, why?" Sakuno demanded as she stood over Ryoma's stirring figure on the roof of the school building. A gentle wind swirled around them as he squinted at the sudden shadow looming over his dreams. It must have been the trillionth time she had came upon him in his sleep in the past two weeks, yet at that particular moment she could not have cared less. If the subtle approach she had used for the past three years had not worked the way she wanted, what would a few sparks of anger do? It was not as if it could get any worse than what she was feeling now.<p>

"...Did I?" He stifled a yawn.

"Ryoma-kun."

"...Yes?"

"I'm serious."

He looked at her smoldering eyes. "I know. You're not this good at lying."

Her features frosted over with a silent anger as she eyed his face. "...I don't get it. I really don't."

The amber eyes seemed to soften a bit in the few seconds of silence that followed. As he rosed into a standing position, he allowed his mocking tone to reside.

"What don't you get?"

The silky rays of the sun were almost too bright for her to face, yet she turned her face upwards in a determined fashion, trying hard not to appear threatened by his towering figure, and stared into the deep pools of amber.

"Well, first you insult me, then you steal my leaf for someone else, and now _this_-" Her voice gave away the slightest tremour as she held up the leaf of the red tulip which sparkled in the gush of golden light. "...What on earth are you trying to say? Is this just another meaningless thing like those Christmas and Valentines presents? Or is playing around with girls just your idea of fun?"

He looked at her in wonder and amazement, he had not known she could talk that much.

"Did your grandmother tell you to give that leaf?" He asked lightly.

"...No," She replied. Then her eyes darkened. "...But did your father tell you to give this leaf?"

"Yes."

Her heart sank. Does this mean, afterall, that it was another meaningless token of friendship?

"And I suppose you've already given it to some lucky girl today?" She couldn't believe she had allowed herself to sulk in front of him. And she could feel her face prickling with heat from shame.

"...What do you think?" His tone was incredulous.

Her head lowered, but she was successful in fighting back her tears, just. Yet it was extremely difficult - with the person causing her tears staring intently at her merely a few feet away from her, waiting silently for her to give him the satisfaction of breaking down.

She had not noticed it when he first smiled. But he was most certainly smiling when he spoke, as if he could read her thoughts as easily as hitting a twist serve.

"...Didn't I just say you can't always be so trusting?" Slowly, he drew out a flat item from the breast pocket of his uniform. An acacia leaf. The amusement within his eyes seemed almost gentle as he laid the leaf on the top of her head.

"The game's over, idiot."

Then he bent down and dropped a kiss on her leaf. It was so light she almost didn't feel it.

"Who said it had to be _secret_?" He glanced down at her stunned expression and a dazzling smirk graced his features.

"Lying isn't your job."

* * *

><p>AN: Hi guys~ Long time no see! Sorry I have taken such a long break... just thought I would upload a story that I wrote 3-4 years ago on our favorite couple :) I never got a chance to put it on at the time and think I just forgot about it... but hope you guys enjoyed reading it! Thanks again for all your support and feedback~ hope you all had a lovely Christmas and New Year too.


End file.
